


Two Weapons - The Moments In Between

by ImaginaryBread



Series: Two Weapons [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23943922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaginaryBread/pseuds/ImaginaryBread
Summary: A collection of short scenes in the Two Weapons universe detailing the smaller moments in the lives of those who found themselves at Garreg Mach.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Jeralt Reus Eisner & My Unit | Byleth
Series: Two Weapons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726078
Comments: 12
Kudos: 34





	1. The One Who Knows You Best

\--28th of the Blue Sea Moon, 1180, Caspar--

Shortly after noon a surprise summer thunderstorm rolled over Garreg Mach. Little more than half an hour later, the Black Eagles slogged back through the front gate, each of them soaked through. As they moved to the dorms, the professor could be heard calling out to them over the downpour.

“Everyone, go and get dry,” she said. “I’ll come by later with what will happen tomorrow if the storm keeps up.” With that the students scattered, heading to their respective dorms. Caspar all but sprinted to his, eager to get out of the storm, clutching his hands together. As he got into his room and closed the door, he finally relaxed. He remained relaxed as he got out of his soaked clothes, but was startled as a peal of thunder rang out, causing him to stumble and fall with a thump. As he was getting up, he was startled once more by another sudden noise, but this time it was a knock at his door.

“Who’s there?” Caspar asked, picking himself up fully this time.

A tired voice replied through the door. “It’s me,” called out Linhardt.

The brawler let out a relieved sigh and walked to the door, opening it to reveal his boyfriend. Caspar stepped aside to let him in and Linhardt immediately went to lay down on the bed. “So what brought you up here?” he asked while he finished putting on dry clothes.

“Ah fgrrd oo mih whn zm hmpny,” Linhardt said through a facefull of bed.

Caspar turned around as he pulled on a tunic and gave his partner a confused look. “I didn’t understand a word of th-” he tried to say before he was interrupted by another peal of thunder, causing him to startle.

At that Linhardt lifted his head off of the bed and lifted his hand towards Caspar. “Because of that,” he said calmly. In his hand was the charm that Caspar had been clutching as he entered his room.

Caspar looked to the desk where he thought he had put it but it wasn’t there. The blue haired boy went to grab the charm, but as he started to wrap his fingers around it, he was pulled down onto his bed, where he was quickly wrapped in Linhardt’s arms.

“I see your devious plan,” Caspar said with a jovial tone. “You wanted to lay with me this whole time!”

“That’s just a beneficial side effect,” Linhardt replied into the shorter boy’s shoulder. “I saw how shaken you were on the walk back, but I also know that you don’t like people knowing you’re afraid of lightning.”

“I’m not afraid of lightning!” Caspar exclaimed exasperatedly. “I just have a healthy respect for it.” Linhardt simply murmured into his back in acknowledgement. “I’m not afraid of anything. Except for Edelgard when she’s angry.”


	2. Worries of Unrequited Suffering

\--30th of the Blue Sea Moon, 1180, Ingrid--

As she finished changing out of her training clothes, Ingrid couldn't help but think back to how out of it Sylvain had been during class. He didn't usually put all of his effort into his studies, but today had been more lackluster than usual. Her concern kept nagging at her as she finished cleaning herself up, leading her to leave her room and walk down to the other end of the hallway. Once there, she knocked on the door, hoping Sylvain was there.

“Hold on,” a familiar voice called from the other side of the barrier. A few seconds later the door opened, greeting Ingrid with the sight of a familiar face and orange mop of hair. “Oh, hi Ingrid,” Sylvain said with little emotion in his voice. “Did you come because of another complaint? Because I’ve been behaving myself.”

“No. I haven’t gotten any more complaints,” Ingrid replied, her worry not assuaged by his tone. “I’m just worried about you. You’ve been… less invested than usual.”

Sylvain let out a sigh at the concerned words. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” With that he moved to close the door but was stopped as Ingrid put her foot in it’s path. “Ugh. Come on in I guess,” the boy acquiesced, opening the door all the way. After Ingrid walked in, he closed it behind her.

“So,” Ingrid said, taking a seat at the desk, “do you want to explain what’s going on? Or are you going to make me guess?”

While she asked that, Sylvain moved to his bed and flopped down on it. “What do you want me to say?” he replied. “That I’ve been given some despicable role in life? Or how about the fact that I have little to no say in how I’ll get to live once I leave the academy.” He paused for a second before lifting his head up to look at his friend. “I would think that you of all people would understand. We’re in the same position. Little more than bait for our families to use so that they can prosper.”

Ingrid had to admit that those words did hit close to home. But this wasn’t news to either of them. “So what brought this on? Is it about marriage?” she asked. Maybe, if she figured out what had happened, she could raise his mood.

Sylvain didn’t answer immediately, and Ingrid was about to ask him if he was alright when he finally spoke. “I talked with the Black Eagles professor,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “Did you know she has a crest? She didn’t. She got to grow up as if she was just an ordinary kid. No worries about getting sold off to secure power. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous.”

“Ah,” Ingrid said, trying to find the right words to give her reply. “Well, what would you do if you didn’t have to worry about following expectations?” she asked. “What would change?”

Sylvain didn’t hesitate to give his answer. “I’d be able to be with someone I actually want to be with.”

“So it is a marriage thing,” Ingrid said, trying to improve the mood by putting a sarcastic tone to her words. This didn’t seem to work however as Sylvain let out a sad sigh. 

“Do you remember when I came out to you?” he asked. “Your support made me feel like maybe I could do the same with my dad.” Ingrid cringed at that. She knew how traditional Sylvain’s father was. He wouldn’t approve of any relationship that couldn’t produce an heir with a crest. “Yeah, it went about as well as you think. He was relieved that I’m attracted to women, but he didn’t mince words telling me that anything else wouldn’t be tolerated.”

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with that,” Ingrid said in an attempt to console her friend.

Sylvain chuckled at that, turning his head to look at his blonde friend. “It’s not your fault my family sucks,” he said. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I wasn’t hung up on someone. But unfortunately, I can’t get over something that will never happen.”

A look of surprise popped onto Ingrid’s face at that remark. “Oh, is it someone at the academy?” she asked, her curiosity piqued. “Do I know them?”

“If I tell you,” he began, “you have to give your word that you won’t tell anyone and you’ll let me get over it on my own.” Ingrid nodded furiously, quickly agreeing to that deal. A deep sigh left Sylvain, followed by his secret. “It’s Felix.”

What was once an expression of surprise turned to actual shock at Sylvain’s secret. The two of them sat there, neither of them talking for several seconds, and then suddenly Ingrid shouted “YOU LIKE FELIX?!” before slapping her hands over her mouth.

Sylvain shot up at the exclamation and began whispering to the blonde rider. “Shut up, will you! Do you want everyone to know?!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Ingrid whispered between her fingers. “But seriously? How long have you liked him?”

“Ugh,” the orange haired boy sighed. “Long enough to know that I don’t have a shot. Now that you know, will you leave me alone? Let me wallow?”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at Sylvain. “Fine,” she said, standing up and heading towards the door. “I’ll leave you to your wallowing.” With that Ingrid walked out of the room, turning to face her friend from the doorway. “If you want to talk, let me know.”

She closed the door behind her, she felt like there was someone staring at her, but there was no one else in the hallway. She started back towards her own room, wanting to process what she had just learned. As she started down the steps, however, she heard the sound of a door closing behind her. As she turned around, the hallway seemed empty so Ingrid chocked it up to the wind as she continued towards her dorm.


	3. Defining a Desire

\--1 st of the Verdant Rain Moon, 1180, Petra--

Petra had a problem. A problem named Dorothea. Or more specifically, how she felt about Dorothea. She didn’t know exactly what she felt when she was around or thought about the auburn haired woman. With the other students she felt something like camaraderie but that wasn’t what she felt with Dorothea. It wasn’t what she felt with her grandfather either, but that was more similar to it than the feeling of her friends was. Thankfully Petra wasn’t above looking to others for advice, so she stayed after class, hoping to ask the professor about what she was feeling.

As the rest of the students left the classroom, eager to get to the weekend, Petra walked up to the professor. She seemed to be unnoticed but when she passed the frontmost desks, the Professor Eisner spoke up. “How can I help you, Petra?” she asked, not looking up from the work she was doing.

“I am wondering if you can help me with a personal issue, professor.” As Petra said this, the professor stopped what she was doing and looked up from her work.

“What is the issue?” the professor replied, gesturing for Petra to grab a seat. “I’ll try my best to help.”

Petra took a seat at the desk and began explaining her situation to the professor. “I’m unsure how to describe it, but I’m having an issue with Dorothea.”

The professor’s eyebrows rose at her explanation. “But you two seem to get along fine,” she replied. “You’re wide like burglars.”

Now it was Petra’s turn to be confused. “But we aren’t large, nor do we steal?” she replied. “Although I will agree we are good friends.”

“I am meaning that you’re usually together,” Professor Eisner explained. “But please continue.”

“Well, she is constantly on my mind, but not in a distracting way,” said Petra, trying to put words to her confusion. “And when I think of her compared to others, she’s different. Like with my classmates, there's kindness and friendship and a sense of trust. But with Dorothea, it’s like I’m in a warm ocean with calm, rolling waves, and yet there’s no need to fear it. It’s this vast, deep feeling, but also relaxing.” As she finished her explanation Petra looked to the professor with a pleading look on her face. “I’m hoping you can help me understand this feeling.”

“I can’t tell you what this is,” the professor answered, causing Petra to deflate a little, “but I think I can help put yourself on the right trail. What does that feeling make you want to do? The first thing that comes to mind.”

Petra closed her eyes and thought of Dorothea, trying to pin down what came to mind. She thought of Dorothea’s eyes, the color of a green sea, and they way she squinted as she laughed her mirthful laugh. Or the fire that blazed brighter than the sun inside of them when she saw people in pain. She thought of her kind voice, willing to help people, and the way it shifted to a sharp and cutting tone when it was needed. As she thought of Dorothea, she felt a desire igniting within her. Petra wanted to be with her. To stand by her side and support her.

“I want to spend my time with her,” Petra said to the professor. “That is what I want to do.”

“Then get out and do it,” Professor Eisner advised, a grin on her face. “Something I have learning of is that you don’t ever get what you want if you don’t try.”

Petra stood up at those words. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll be going now.” As she headed to the door, the professor called out to her.

“You’re welcome!” she said. “Go and shatter a limb.”


	4. Braids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple braid can mean a lot more than you might expect.

A woman named Marlene, who was a mercenary in Jeralt’s company was the first person to braid Byleth’s hair. The girl had asked the woman about her hair and after realizing Byleth’s interest she offered to braid the girl’s hair. Byleth accepted immediately and sat down in front of the woman. While Byleth’s hair wasn’t that long, it was a tangled mess so they started with combing out the blue hair. As the two of them sat there, they talked about small happenings around the company and other bits and bobs of trivia.

Once Marlene finished braiding the girl’s hair, she pulled out a small mirror for Byleth to inspect her work with. As soon as she saw it the girl grew even more excited, which Marlene didn’t think she had ever seen before, and wrapped her arms around the woman in a sudden hug. She handed back the steel mirror and ran off, saying something about showing her father. Not an hour later she found that very man standing in front of her, trying and failing to ask something of her. The famous ‘blade breaker” may have been an intimidating presence on the battlefield and at the negotiation table but many of the more seasoned mercenaries knew just how awkward he could be.

Eventually he got the words out, asking Marlene to teach him how to braid hair. The woman let out a chuckle at his request, earning a glare. She quickly explained that she just found it funny how he looked like this grizzled vetran but in reality he was a kind and caring father. The two of them spent the next hour having Jeralt braid and unbraid Marlene’s hair repeatedly, until he was able to get it to stay in place every time even if it wasn’t the prettiest.

As he got up to leave he gave his thanks to Marlene. She thought it was about teaching him how to braid hair and said it was no skin off her back to sit for an hour telling him what to do. Marlene was shocked when he said that he wasn’t thanking her for that, but for being kind to Byleth. He knew that not everyone was, so it meant a lot to both of them that the woman treated her so normally. With that he left to go and do whatever it was a mercenary commander did. The next day, however, an excited Byleth ran up to her with a messy braid and began gushing to her about how her dad had put the braid in her hair that morning. As she saw the glow on Byleth’s face as she spoke, Marlene knew that this was in it’s own way her reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Hope you enjoyed this little drabble. It's the first time I've actually cried happy tears writing, so there's that. Let me know what you think, and have a wonderful day!


	5. Golden Deer Arm Wrestling Competition

“Come one come all!” Claude called from the top of a crate near the pond. “Come and test your strength against the Golden Deer’s Raphael! Place a bet and if you win, double your money!”

A small crowd was formed behind him from which cheers could be heard. In the center of the crowd, a burly knight was struggling against Raphael to pin the student’s arm, who was fighting to do the same to the knight. By the knight a considerable stack of gold coins were counted out, the wager for the power struggle between the two muscled contenders. As the crowd was cheering, some for the knight and some for the student, the pair of hands slowly began to move closer to the table in Raphael’s favor. Desperately the warrior tried to recover, to gain back the ground he was losing, but alas it was too late as Raphael pinned his hand against the table. 

The crowd’s cheers reached new cacophonous levels at the end of the match, drowning out all sound from outside of the circle of eager eyes. As the knight stood Hilda swept his gold off the table and into a box where they were holding their ‘earnings’. So far nobody had managed to defeat the broad-shouldered student despite the many attempts. “Who’s next to challenge the strapping Raphael?” Hilda asked, challenging anyone in the crowd to step forward. Before anyone could answer however a commanding cough silenced the crowd and suddenly the crowd parted, revealing the archbishop standing in the gap with a sheepish looking Claude next to her.

“So what is all this commotion about?” Rhea asked, her tone serious but inquisitive.

As he heard the wondering in her voice, Claude began to lay out the beginnings of an escape from any trouble they might be headed towards. “Oh, we’re just testing the knights, your grace. A simple game to ensure that they are strong enough to stand against whatever threat they may need to defend against. I will admit that we all may have gotten a little carried away and caused a bit of a ruckus, but I assure you that It’s all just a bit of friendly competition.”

Rhea looked at the house leader, her eyes tightening at his words. “A test of strength you say? How does it work?”

“Oh it’s very straightforward,” replied Claude, his voice laced with honey. “The person who wishes to test their strength simply grasps Raphael’s hand with their elbow on the table. Once everyone is ready, the two simply try to pin the other’s hand to the table with their own using only the arm on the table.”

“Ah,” Rhea uttered as if she was beginning to understand the game. “Well then, I suppose that I should be next. It would be unbecoming for a leader to not do something that those they lead would do.” Before anyone could interject she was sitting down at the table and getting herself settled.

Hilda, Claude, and Raphael all looked at eachother, all just as shocked as the knights around them seemed to be. Soon enough the archbishop had her arm on the table and was waiting for Raphael, who was alternating between gawking at the woman in front of him and his house leader, looking for some kind of advice. All that the archer could think of was to have the brawler throw the match so that perhaps Rhea could be appeased. As he mouthed the plan to Raphael, he seemed to understand and gave a nod before gripping the archbishop’s hand firmly in his own.

At this point there were murmurs going around the crowd as Hilda stepped forward to give the count down, placing her hands on top of the two competitors’. “If everyone’s ready, three, two, one, go!” she called, throwing her hands into the air to start the bout. Immediately Raphael began pushing against the archbishop, but Claude and Hilda could both tell that it was for show as Rhea slowly dragged his hand to the table before tapping it to the surface. The crowd let out a rambunctious cry at the victory, but as it quieted down the holy woman spoke up.

“I thought this was supposed to be a test, but I feel like you let me win,” she remarked, fixing Raphael with a stare.

“Well, I didn’t want to hurt you or nothing,” the muscular student admitted.

Rhea’s gaze softened as she softly replied to his worry. “There’s no need for that. I’m far more resilient than most think. Besides, how am I supposed to judge how good of a job you are doing testing my knights if I don’t experience the test?”

“I guess that’s a fair point,” Raphael said, nodding in agreement. “Alright then, I’ll take you on fair and square!”

“Wonderful,” the archbishop replied, her voice containing a hint of satisfaction that set off alarm bells in Claude’s head for reasons he couldn’t understand. Before he could do anything however Hilda was counting down for the rematch and all he was able to do was watch the match.

Once again as soon as Hilda’s hands were in the air Raphael was fighting to pull the archbishop’s hand to the table. The difference this time was that now Raphael was putting in an actual effort. Despite this effort, and to everyone's surprise, Rhea’s arm was barely moving at all and it seemed as if she was barely straining. Slowly she guided Raphael’s arm down and pressed his hand to the table. Instead of cheers though there was only stunned silence at the ease with which the formerly undefeated student had lost.

While everyone was at a loss for words Rhea stood up and turned to Claude. “I think your test will do fine. And for future reference, I do know what arm wrestling is.” After she finished speaking she turned back to the stunned Hilda and Raphael. “Have a wonderful day testing the knights,” she said before walking away through the crowd, leaving everyone silently looking at one another trying to figure out what happened.


	6. A Patient Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercedes decides that it's time to talk to a certain Knight of Serios

One of the things that most people at the Officer’s Academy would agree on, regardless of which house they belong to, is that Mercedes is a patient woman. As such, when she was up early on a Sunday morning, practicing her archery, it didn’t seem out of place. Nobody would think that she was biding her time until a certain knight, who would come to train every morning on the dummies, arrived.

The Blue Lion healer didn’t have to wait long, as right on time the man she was waiting for walked through the doors. He went straight to his training, gathering the necessary equipment. He seemed to not even realize that Mercedes was in the training hall until she pulled back particularly far on her bowstring, letting the arrow bury itself up to the fletching in the target with a loud thud.

With a startled turn towards the sound, Knight Pronislav realized that Mercedes was there. “Ah, Miss von Martiz. My apologies for not greeting you sooner. I was distracted by my thoughts.”

“Oh that’s completely understandable,” Mercedes replied as she nocked another arrow. As she drew back on the bow she paused for a second, but instead of loosing the arrow, she slowly let it go back to rest. “You know, I can’t help but think that you’re familiar.”

The axe wielding knight tensed at that sentence before turning back to his equipment, making sure that everything was as it was meant to be. “I’m sure that is just a coincidence.”

“Hmmm,” Mercedes drawled, unnocking her arrow and bringing it’s tip up to her mouth as she thought. “I don’t think so. Do you come from Faerghus?” As she asked this the blonde woman walked towards the knight. “You remind me of someone I went to the Royal School of Sorcery with. Specifically Annette Dominic.” When the knight’s hands went still, a faint smile flashed across Mercedes’s face.

After a few seconds, the knight responded. “What is it that you want? Is this some attempt to blackmail me? To threaten my family?”

“Oh, not at all,” Mercedes replied with a cheerful tone. “I’m simply here to talk. Annette and I are friends, and all I want is to make sure she doesn’t get hurt again. I also understand that people deserve second chances.”

Knight Pronislav raised an eyebrow at that, but allowed Mercedes to continue.

“When you left, you hurt Annette and left her feeling broken,” Mercedes said, the cheerful tone gone from her voice. “I did everything I could to help her put herself back together. And if she gets hurt again, I’ll help her like I did before. But I won’t give anyone a third chance to hurt her.” As she said this she took the arrow in her hand and let it’s point rest against the knight’s chest, right above his heart. “So… consider this conversation asmy warning to you that this is your second chance.”

Right when Mercedes finished speaking a group of young knights came into the training hall. Immediately Mercedes’s mood seemed to shift from serious to merry. “It was wonderful talking to you, Knight Pronislav. I hope you have a good day.” Before he could respond, Mercedes turned around, gathering her arrows and heading out of the training hall.


	7. Coming out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth reveals something about herself, hoping the whole while that it doesn't end up ruining things.

“It’s going to be fine,” Sothis said as she floated beside the young Byleth. “You can turn into a giant winged lizard. The fact that you’re a girl won’t be as surprising as that.”

Byleth turned to the spectral girl beside her. “But that he can see. This is just… me feeling wrong in my body.”

The green haired spirit drifted over to Byleth and wrapped an arm around her. “That’s all the more reason to tell him. If your sword arm felt off, or walking caused you pain, he would want to know so he could help. In all my time in your head I’ve only seen him care about you. I mean, I first met you when he was ready to sacrifice himself to keep you safe. He may be a bit unreliable, but he would do anything for you.”

“Then how do I tell him?” Byleth asked, pulling her knees to her chest as she sat in the tent she shared with her father. “He’s just going to think I’m crazy.”

“He’s not going to think that,” Sothis comforted. “As for how to tell him, I have no advice. Perhaps you should just… talk to him? This is something that you have been worrying over for quite some time. This could be the time to alleviate that.”

The blue haired girl took a deep breath at that suggestion. “Ok. I can do this. There’s no need to worry. It’ll be fine.” Once she finished psyching herself up Byleth stood up from the bedroll she had been sat on and marched out of the tent, a shaky determination painted on her face. Sothis floated behind her as she headed towards the cooking area in their makeshift camp. As she got closer she heard the telltale sound of the mercenaries drinking and revelling around the fire. Soon enough she heard some of the rowdier mercenaries call out.

“Well if it ain’t the boss’s boy!” one exclaimed, a surge of doubt striking against Byleth’s courage. “Didn’t think we’d see you tonight, what with you holding up in your tent and muttering to yourself.”

Byleth did her best to ignore the words, continuing on and moving through the crowd of people until she found her father. As soon as she laid eyes on him, however, her courage began to waver. “I can’t do this. He’s gonna hate me and think I’m a freak,” Byleth muttered, quietly enough so that nobody else could hear what she said.

Before this failing courage could cause her to turn tail however, Jeralt called out to Byleth. “Hey kiddo,” he slurred.

Realizing that there was no easy way out of the situation, Byleth took a second to gather herself once more before taking the last few steps to her father. Once she was close enough to talk to him without having to raise her voice she spoke. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Jeralt looked the child up and down, focusing on her hands that had subconsciously balled themselves around the hem of her tunic. “Sure thing. Let’s head back to the tent.” As he said this he stood up, swaying a bit before finding his balance.

When the two began to head through the group of mercenaries however a voice was heard, trying and failing to be a whisper. “Jeralt’s boy ain’t normal,” were the words that came out, and immediately the experienced mercenary put his hand on Byleth’s shoulder, causing her to halt.

As Byleth stood there Jeralt took one final swig from his flask before turning to the mercenary that had spoken up. “What did you say?”

Whether due to drunken courage or drunken stupidity the man repeated his words. “I said your boy weirds me out.” The others around him shied away, leaving a gap around him. As soon as the man finished speaking Jeralt whipped the flask at him, pelting him in the head and causing him to topple over.

“I want you gone by the time we head out tomorrow,” Jeralt growled, turning around and leading Byleth out of the group of mercenaries. The two of them went back to their tent, Byleth trying to make herself as small as possible during the trip. Once back inside the tent Jeralt knelt down in front of Byleth. “I want you to know that the people who say things like that don’t know what they’re talking about, ok?”

Byleth nodded but still she was filled with worry. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Jeralt replied, patting Byleth’s shoulder before standing back up, swaying slightly, and sitting down on his bedroll. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Sothis popped into Byleth’s view as Jeralt spoke. “You can do this. He’s willing to get rid of mercenaries who think poorly of you, so he’s going to love you no matter what.”

Spurred forwards by Sothis’s words, Byleth began to speak, stumbling over her words. “I, um, I don’t feel right. In my body. I mean, as a boy. I feel like I’m uh trapped in a boy's body but I’m a girl.”

Jeralt just looked at Byleth with a confused look on his face. “Ok. Can you take a deep breath and say that again, but slower?”

Byleth took a couple deep breaths before thinking of how to say what she wanted to say. “I’m a girl, but I’m in a boy’s body.”

As she finished speaking she looked at her father, and he looked back at her, his eyebrow cocked inquisitively. “Well, I can’t say I understand it completely, but you know you.” Jeralt patted the bedroll next to him, silently telling her to sit down. When she did the burly man wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to his side. “We’ll have to figure out what to do to make you feel better… Also, what should I call you?”

The blue haired girl looked up at her dad. “Can… you call me Byleth?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you like this chapter. Another little snippet from the Two Weapons Universe that I think adds a lot to the characters. Let me know what you think!


End file.
